Fan The Flames (Man Of The Month Book 3) by Michele Dunaway

Louisans defined themselves by where they went to high school or where they went to church. It instantly defined your social class.
    Tommy sized up Brad, who stood at least eight inches taller. He reached his hand out and Brad shook it. Must have gripped hard because Tommy hid a wince. “Nice to meet you, Brad. Glad you could help Scarlett out.” Tommy turned back to Scarlett before Brad could answer. “I don’t want to keep you, but I’d love to catch up sometime. Will you be at the fish fry next Friday?”
    Scarlett laughed. “My parents are already recruiting me to work the dessert table.”
    Tommy’s smile widened. “Perfect. I’ll be there. Never miss it if I can help it. We can catch up then. If I don’t see you later, have fun tonight.”
    “Thanks. You too.” Scarlett stared after him as Tommy merged into the crowd. She turned to Brad. “That’s a friend of my brother’s.”
    “So I gathered,” Brad said, his expression inscrutable.
    She frowned. “What?”
    “Nothing.” Brad shrugged. He’d discarded the suit coat, leaving it at their table while they’d been dancing. He snagged two bottles of water from a roaming waiter.
    Scarlett planted her hand on her hip, used the other to hold the bottle of water Brad had gotten. “That’s just Tommy. Friend of my brother’s.”
    “You already said that.” Brad uncapped his water. She continued to stare at him. He cupped her elbow, moved her out of traffic. “He was hitting on you, that’s all.”
    She frowned. “No, he wasn’t. He was being friendly.”
    “If I wasn’t here, he’d be all over you. He’s a widower with a kid your daughter’s age.”
    “Which means nothing,” Scarlett scolded.
    As if choosing his words, Brad took a sip. “It means he’s lonely and looking. I know the type.”
    “Please. It’s nothing to hang out with someone at the fish fry. I’ll be serving cake with my mom. Hardly a place where I’m going to be ravaged, wouldn’t you agree?”
    “It’s just ironic that I brought you to fend off the women and it’s you who is getting hit on. He asked you out and you don’t see it.”
    “Well, I haven’t dated anyone except Todd. I don’t know what I’m looking for. I feel as if you’re making this my fault.”
    “No.” He held up the bottle in defense. This conversation was not going well. “That’s not my intention at all. I have no control over you and I know that. I just…”
    Brad stopped before he said too much. Todd’s instructions were that she be happy. That she find someone so she didn’t go through the rest of her life alone. But the moment he’d walked into her house and seen her standing there, looking like a goddess in her dark blue dress, he’d wanted nothing more than to touch her. He wanted to run his fingers from the dip behind her ear to the indentation at the base of her throat. Then he wanted to replace his fingers with his lips so he could plant kisses on her lovely, creamy skin. He wanted to take the pins out of hair the color of sunset and let the waves pool around her shoulders. She placed her empty water bottle on a nearby table. “Can we dance more? I haven’t danced in forever and I’m really enjoying it. I don’t want seeing Tommy to spoil anything.”
    “Sure.” Brad added his empty bottle to the collection on the table. Dancing was safe, and he was probably being unreasonable. But the rush of jealousy that had hit him when Tommy had approached had been almost overpowering. For a man who prided himself on control, he hated that he’d lost it, even if for a moment.
    “I like this song. Let’s forget everything and just have fun,” she urged.
    “Agreed.” Brad forced himself to relax. He didn’t want to ruin their night. Besides, wasn’t that the point of Mardi Gras, to party with abandon until after Fat Tuesday? For once Ash Wednesday and Lent arrived, forty days of piety followed and you were supposed to give something up so you could focus on what the